The darker twists of passion

An Excerpt from Deadeye

Deadeye

Vitus and Caecilia must embrace a world of lustful and devious demons in order to succeed in their mission. And Justus, an incubus, half-breed son of the demon lord of Infernia and a Dreamweaver Sorceress, must shed his dark shadow in order to accept his destiny as a Nacraecian Dreamweaver Sorcerer. Three who meet, three who must face their duty, three who risk everything to be free.

CAUTION: This dark fantasy, dark romance, story contains explicit sexual situations and strong language. Content may be objectionable and beyond comfort zones to some readers and includes dubious consent, multiple sex partners, bisexual activity, some elements of BDSM, involving hot demons, sexy cowboys, seductive soiled doves, as well as titillating satyrs, dominating gods and goddesses, and confronting flesh-craving zombies. Whew! You must be over the age of 18 years of age to read this story.

EXCERPT

Vitus entered the Dark Seducer Saloon, looked around and then walked to the curved mahogany bar. He lifted his saddlebags off his shoulder and dropped them onto the counter.

“Whiskey,” he said.

The bartender brought him a glass, set it down, and poured out a measure. Vitus’s arm shot out to stay the bartender as he was about to replace the bottle back on the shelf.

“Leave it,” Vitus said.

The bartender nodded, set the half-full bottle onto the bar, and stepped away.

Vitus downed the shot, poured another, then turned away from the bar to face the stage. His attention was caught by the performers there. He downed the whiskey. Intrigued by the stage act, he scooped up the bottle and the glass, grabbed his saddlebags, and sauntered toward an empty table.

The young man on stage was quite beautiful and quite obviously from the tone of his skin color, demon. With him were two pale human beauties—one man, one woman. And a tall, portly gentleman with a black waxed handlebar mustache and neatly trimmed beard, orange fire in his eyes.

The demon was naked, the young woman and the other young man were fully clothed, but looking nervous and scared.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the older man began, “Lucy and James lost heavily at the tables and, as agreed, they will perform for us this evening as they have nothing else with which to wager.” He turned to the young couple. “Well? Prepare yourself for the fucking of your lives. And I expect good entertainment for our paying guests.” He waved to someone off stage and two scantily clad women stepped into the spotlight, each going to one of the pair.

As Vitus watched, Lucy and James were slowly undressed by the women, making a good show of stripping them for the crowd, until the quivering pair were equally as bare as the demon. James was escorted to the iron frame at the center rear of the stage. He was shackled arms and legs to the frame by the saloon girls.

Justus stroked his demon’s cock. Lucy’s eyes widened at the sight. He swaggered across the stage to stand in front of her. Vitus watched her body visibly loosen, the trembling lessened, as she stared into Justus’s vivid blue eyes. Vitus knew exactly what was happening. Justus was using his demon’s glamour to quiet her before the actual seduction commenced.

“I’ll have the girl first,” he said. Reaching out, he clasped the woman’s arm and yanked her forward. A fiddle player sitting near the stage began playing as Justus took Lucy into his arms, plastering her naked body to his. For a moment they rocked back and forth in place. Justus rubbed himself against her; he reached around to cup her heart-shaped ass. He turned until her back faced the audience. As they undulated, he slipped a long finger between her cheeks, slowly sliding it into her anus.

Her gasp was audible. The digit sank deeper and deeper into her tight channel as the couple undulated and danced on the stage. For the next act, Justus brought her to a halt at the center of the stage. He whispered something in her ear and she shifted her legs slightly wider. Justus slid his cock between her thighs, working his way slowly between them. Finally, the audience could see the twin heads peek from beneath her firm young buttocks.

Justus turned sideways, so the audience could watch as he began to work both his finger and cock inside and against the woman in a seductive manner. She closed her eyes, her head tilted back as she gave herself up to his masterful control.

“Fuck her!” came the catcalls from the audience.

But Justus was a performer who had learned from the best. He stretched out the anticipation until his audience was just as completely seduced as the woman on stage.

In the audience soiled doves, gunslingers, and gamblers found their partners, even as they watched the performance on stage. Pants lowered, skirts raised, men with women, men with men, women with women, and every combination in between copulated with abandon.

Justus’s complete focus was on the woman—on preparing her for when he finally did choose to penetrate her with his cock. His actions mirrored the rhythm of the music.

“Don’t do this to her,” James pleaded, trying to break free of the chains that imprisoned him. “I was the one who cheated, not her. Please let her go.”

“Too late for that,” the old man with the black beard said. “You wagered, you lost. She agreed to pay the price along with you. I could have simply released you to find your way on the flats. At midnight. By the time you reached the forest you’d have a fine party of hell-zombies waiting on your company. Is that what you would have preferred?”

“No. But, please, Lucy only came with me because I said I’d come here without her. She’s not responsible for what I did.”

“Should have thought of that before coming to Deadeye. She’s agreed, same as you. She claimed her ticket, same as you. Now shut your mouth before I put it to better use. Your turn will come.”

Lucy was now twisting, writhing, rubbing against Justus, pleading for him to fuck her. She moved against Justus, back and forth, her enthusiasm and arousal quite telling in her actions. Justus moved faster, more deliberately. He began to shift her backward, toward a bench near the front edge of the stage. One that would allow the boisterous audience full view of what came next. Although, most of the audience was now engaged in their own interpretations of the lusty demonstration taking place on stage.

Vitus poured himself another drink, lifted it, and swallowed the contents of the glass. A pale female hand covered his larger, tanned one, then removed the glass. She drew his attention away from the stage.

“He puts on quite a show, doesn’t he? And he certainly has a way of firing up his audience.” Vitus studied the woman dressed in white who seated herself at the table. He noted the necklace. She still wore it and the sight of his ring pleased him. A surge of possessiveness erupted inside him, pooling in his groin, arousing him in a way the stage performance had failed. The burn of desire steadily grew brighter. Caecilia reached up to curl her fingers around the ring in almost a protective fashion. Her hand rested about the curve of her voluptuous breasts. She caught his eye, slowly unfurled her fingers and released the ring. It caught the gaslight of the room as the ring dangled against her skin, finally nestling happily in the valley between her breasts.

It took effort for Vitus to lift his gaze to meet hers. He’d not seen her in a hundred years and, as it always did, the sight of her aroused him to heights he found difficult to wrangle into submission. Emotions clashed and sparked inside him. He watched as she poured the whiskey, turned the glass to the spot from which he’d just drunk. She lifted it, licked the rim, watched him, dipped the tip of her pink tongue into the golden liquid, then licked her lips.

“Caecilia.” His tone was one of warning.

She dipped the end of her finger into the glass, then thrust the tip into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked on the digit. Vitus’s cock jerked, hardened, as he watched her. He damned Apollo, he damned Aphrodite, he damned Diana. But most of all he damned himself for wanting Caecilia as much as he had when he’d first seen her on the banks of the Tiber. She tipped the glass and swallowed the contents. It took every last bit of his self-control not to reach for her, to stroke her slender throat, to press his lips to the beautiful column, to claim what her lips promised.

She smiled, grabbed the bottle and poured another shot of the whiskey into Vitus’s glass. She lifted it and swallowed the fiery liquid. “It’s been a while, Vitus. It’s good to see you.”

“Is it? Why tempt me, Caecilia, when you know what the punishment would be?”

She shrugged. “After all these years maybe I’m just tired of fighting.” She leaned over the table, her plump breasts pale and enticing. “Don’t you want to forget them all, just for one night? Wouldn’t one night of just us be worth whatever punishment they meted out?”

He took her hand between both of his. He stroked his thumb across the silk of her flesh. “You don’t have a clue what it would mean to become a source for Infernia. I do. There will come a time when we’ll be together. I vow to you. One day this weight—this pain—will be gone.”

Something in her eyes shifted. He saw the need, the yearning. He released her hand. She drew away.

“Of course, Vitus. You’re a Roman warrior, after all. You’re used to deprivation. You think to save me from myself, but I think it’s slowly destroying us both. How much of your humanity is left, Vitus? After Apollo? After Zevodious? Can you even feel anything anymore?”